A Humble Heart
by Tiny Finch
Summary: "You have a surprisingly dirty tongue… and you made such a big deal out of being a proper little hobbit. Take care or I will make you pay for each and every insult you throw at me."
1. Chapter 1

Here's a pairing I've always wanted to try. Just a one-shot for now. It may become more, but for now the itch has been satisfied. Enjoy :3

-Tiny Finch

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**The Humble Heart**

Thorin Oakenshield had come upon him quietly, catching him off guard. Bilbo felt his ego deflate, grimacing at the fluttering in his stomach. He had often prided himself on his keen senses. He was, after all, a Baggins. Yet, the surprisingly soft-footed dwarf had slipped into the room, the door closing with a dull thud. The sound barely reverberated though the quiet of the early morning. Bilbo noted the gray light of dawn filtering in through the window's shutter. One of Beorn's ponies whinnied out in the courtyard. It was morning, yes, but far too early for the rest of the company to be up and about. The dwarves had drunken their fill last night. They had, in fact, only just retired a few hours prior.

Well, except one.

_Feign sleep, Bilbo._

A floorboard creaked. He felt his ear twitch at the soft clink of Thorin's belt. Trying to keep his breaths quiet and even, Bilbo screwed his eyes shut, thankful that his back had been towards the door. What to do? He could not sort out his feelings for… whatever it was he and the dwarf had going on. Bilbo hesitated to even call it a relationship. As an eager fauntling, he had heard rumors of the sorts of dalliances that occurred when adventurers were far away from the comforts of home and womenfolk. It was the sort of thing some of the elders would murmur to each other under their breaths, shooting a dirty look toward any travelers that chanced to make their way through the Green Dragon. As an adult, Bilbo could not deny that something carnal had stirred within him the moment Thorin came through his door. It had changed the course of his life.

In hindsight, however, he was unsure indulging in it had been wise. Now he was here, in a straw bed so very far away from Bag End- from home. Bilbo felt the shifting weight of his pallet and was reminded for the hundredth time that he was horribly, pitifully, out of his depth. His breath came out in a shuddering gasp, rough hands slid up under his shirt as the dwarf sidled up behind him. Feigning sleep was now impossible. Thorin's breath was hot against his ear, rumbling deep down in his chest. He breathed in the scent of Bilbo's hair, slowly grinding against his smaller companion. Bilbo shook at the sensation of Thorin's need pressing against him, white-hot excitement kicked into life.

He began to feel his own arousal rise.

"Wait… Thorin," his voice came out small and weak.

The dwarf merely grunted in response, hungrily pulling at Bilbo's trousers. Frustration rose up in his chest. It was always like this. The dwarf was stubborn… impatient. Thorin was used to being obeyed blindly and Bilbo's opinion regarding their situation, at times, seemed to matter little.

"Just, n-no. Stop!" Bilbo began to fight Thorin's arms, twisting in his grasp to push at the burly, bare chest. The sound of his shirt tearing added fuel to his fight. Curse it all… his shirt- his _only_ shirt.

"Damn it, you insufferable fool! Listen to me!"

Thorin stilled then, hands gripped firmly around his much thinner arms. Bilbo swallowed, taking in the sight before him. The King-In-Exile was completely in the nude, the blankets having fallen to his hips in their struggle. This was… new. The times they'd come together were hurried and painful, clothing shoved hastily out of the way. Each encounter had left Bilbo feeling whip-lashed. It was the kind of pain that spiked into a pleasure he had never before experienced, leaving him wrecked and confused. Thorin's appetite was insatiable, and each time the dwarf had sought pleasure from the hobbit's lithe form was a lesson in endurance. This was a part of Bilbo that he had never really allowed himself to explore. That is, until Thorin had set his starving eyes upon him.

Bilbo's protest faded on his lips, cheeks aflame as he took in the spectacle. He had seen all the dwarves in various forms of undress over the past months. It was inevitable… but to have him so close and bare brought Bilbo into a sphere of intimacy that left him at a loss. Long years of travel and battle had left Thorin lean and compact. Strong muscles sculpted his chest, diving down into defined abs. His dark hair spread across his chest in an attractive patch and then trailed down… and down. He closed his eyes, attempting to gain composure in spite of his own erection now straining against the thin fabric of his breeches.

"Bilbo," Thorin's voice rumbled through his entire body. Flustered, he opened one eye, meeting Thorin's hard, smoldering gaze. "You would refuse me?"

"I-no. It's just-aah!" Bilbo cried out. Thorin palmed him through the fabric, gripping his member in his large hand. Hard.

"Am I the fool here?" Thorin stroked him with each word. Bilbo hissed at the contact, squirming under Thorin's unflinching gaze. "You contradict yourself, Master Burglar."

He felt himself caving into the touch, balling his fists against Thorin's chest. Despite himself, he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting up into the warmth of his hand. Bilbo bit his lip, still trying to fight. It was different, this situation. He didn't know how to react. A moan came up unbidden. Bilbo arched his back, panting heavily. Thorin stilled his hand.

"Ah! W-wha? Mmm!"

Thorin then softly trailed the pad of his index finger up along the base, slowly working his way up to the tip.

" You have every right to refuse. I won't force you, but…" Thorin murmured softly, turning his eyes down towards where his hand was working its way over the hem of travel worn trousers. "We finally have the time to do this proper."

He pulled at the ties, releasing the straining flesh. Bilbo almost cried in sheer relief as cool air met his skin.

"You're being… strange," Bilbo whimpered, flinching as Thorin trailed his thumb along the tip.

"Strange?" Thorin suddenly gripped the back of Bilbo's neck, pulling him close. "Was secretly rutting like animals against a tree in the dead of night, like perverse fiends, not strange? Here I am, offering you an opportunity to change this."

Expression softening, Thorin released his grip and gently took Bilbo's trembling hand, guiding him down until his fingers met hard arousal. Bilbo was entranced, completely overcome by the double assault of Thorin's firm flesh and piercing eyes. This was pure and straight seduction Thorin was playing at. Bilbo had experience with the rough and demanding dwarf. It was a game of submission. However, this new creature before him was almost gentle, coaxing. Bilbo wasn't sure what had brought this change on, but he now decided that he was immensely grateful.

"Bilbo," Thorin spoke, eagerly pulsing beneath Bilbo's fingers. "Your answer?"

"I…" Bilbo swallowed nervously, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

He finally dared to look down at Thorin's cock. Its girth was massive in his small hand. In a quick flash of panic, Bilbo momentarily forgot that it would, in fact, fit. Thorin guided Bilbo's hand as he watched with wide eyes. Together they pumped along the shaft. Now that he had the opportunity, Bilbo marveled at how hard and yet soft the skin could be; how the veins throbbed with each gentle stroke of his hand. Could he end this now? Did he really want to? Heat pulled dangerously low into his stomach. Over the past few days Bilbo had been seriously weighing if he should rebuff Thorin's next advance. But now… this was an offer Bilbo found far too tempting.

With a shuddering breath, he pulled away. Thorin let him, fingers trailing along his skin as Bilbo sat. Thorin tensed and, with a start, Bilbo realized that the proud and tough king was bracing himself for rejection. It took effort to keep a smile from his face.

_This is… ha… I guess Thorin is surprisingly cute_.

Silently, Bilbo pulled his damaged shirt up and off, letting the fabric fall over the edge of the bed with a soft rustle. Sheepishly, Bilbo hugged his chest as gooseflesh rose up along his arms. Averting his eyes, he cursed the deep blush that spread from his cheeks all the way up to the tips of his ears. Since when did he act like such a demure little virgin?

"Bilbo."

Thorin was up and by his side, his body heat radiating into him. Suddenly his lips were upon him, taking his mouth into a deep, heavy kiss. Thorin cradled his face, sucking hungrily on his bottom lip. Breathless, Bilbo allowed it, opening his mouth and allowing Thorin deeper access. Their breath mingled and tongue gently caressed tongue, tracing over soft lips; tasting each other. Swept up, Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck, noting with pleasure the firm muscle lining his shoulders.

Thorin pulled him down onto his waiting lap. They were now flush against each other, slowly grinding into a rhythm both ancient and primal. Bilbo felt the warm smear of pre-cum against his navel… his or Thorin's? He wasn't sure. Suddenly, catching Bilbo off guard, Thorin grasped his buttocks, kneading and fisting the fabric of his trousers with strong fingers.

With a rough yank, he pulled them down to expose soft, pale skin.

" Oh!" Bilbo gasped into Thorin's mouth. "B-bastard… ah!"

His eyes flashing, Thorin gripped Bilbo by the jaw and forced the pad of his thumb against his tongue, effectively silencing him.

"You have a surprisingly dirty tongue… and you made such a big deal out of being a proper little hobbit. Take care or I will make you pay for each and every insult you throw at me."

As he spoke, Thorin pressed his thumb in farther. Bilbo felt his gag reflex tighten at the back of his throat, saliva flooding his mouth. He was so aroused he could barely stand it. Thorin, always with the upper hand, was reducing him to a trembling mess. This was all too much. He could feel himself being pulled completely under.

_Two could play at this._

Emboldened, Bilbo closed his mouth around the digit, sucking lightly.

The sound of Thorin's surprised intake of breath was one of the most delicious things to ever grace Bilbo's ears. Had he not been so intent on the sensation of Thorin's skin against his tongue, Bilbo would have smirked. But… perhaps that would have been provoking the beast too much.

He tasted like salt and iron.

With an almost animalistic growl, Thorin threw them both back onto the bed. There, with Bilbo pinned beneath him, Thorin made quick work of the remaining garment that separated their bare flesh. He released a shuddering breath in satisfaction as he took in Bilbo's naked form. The morning sun had now filled the room completely, illuminating the contours of their bodies. Bilbo was no longer a youthful hobbit just out of his tweens, but middle age had come upon him gently and his skin was still soft and fresh. Like most hobbits, he had never been able to grow a beard and most of his body hair had remained blonde and sparse. He was acutely aware that in comparison to the rugged dwarves around him, he was practically as fair as a maiden.

Bilbo closed his eyes because he knew what was coming next. Despite the pleasure coursing through his veins, the memories of their past coupling left him with a sense of apprehension. He didn't want the pain to spoil the sensation of Thorin tracing the smooth planes of his chest with rough, travel-hardened hands, his fingers gently brushing against Bilbo's thighs.

"So smooth… like milk," Thorin whispered, entranced by the way his fingers sank softly into Bilbo's thigh.

Bilbo wanted retort, to tell Thorin that he didn't need such silly, embarrassing sweet nothings whispered to him. However, at the white-hot sensation of Thorin's mouth suddenly encasing him in sweet pressure, all thoughts fled Bilbo's mind. His eyes flew open and, in disbelief, watched as Thorin's head bobbed up and down. It wasn't his first time having such an act performed on him, but to have Thorin administering such sweet attentions left him... Bilbo was so absorbed in the feeling of tongue and lips that he barely noticed fingers prodding his entrance. He stiffened, fear washing down his spine.

"Let me," Thorin paused to say, his mouth popping off of Bilbo.

It made such a wet, obscene sound. Bilbo's cock twitched, leaking in excitement. Begging. The whole sight was just too much. Suddenly embarrassed beyond belief, he threw an arm over his face before nodding his consent. Thorin returned to his work with vigor, taking him completely in his mouth. A finger slick with saliva gently probed, circling the tight ring of muscle guarding the entrance to Bilbo's body. Then, softly, Thorin eased the digit in, coaxing him open.

Bilbo hissed, biting at his knuckles. The sheer intensity of the sensation hurt, swaying on a tightrope between discomfort and elation. Had Thorin been too eager, like in the past, it would have careened down into pain and blood, but not this time. Bilbo felt the corners of his eyes itch, watering. Allowing Thorin to open him like this left him so vulnerable, exposed. It was frightening… and exhilarating. Bilbo arched his back as Thorin gently sucked at the base of his cock, using his tongue to distract Bilbo enough to allow a second finger in. Bilbo grasped desperately at Thorin's hair, realizing that, with each slow thrust, he was quickly coming towards orgasm.

"Ah-I'm gonna… Thorin!" Bilbo cried out, at a loss.

Thorin had stopped right at the cusp, leaving Bilbo panting and writhing on the bed. Heated and sweating, Bilbo could only look up at him and watch as Thorin reached over the side of the bed, searching for something in the discarded pile of clothing. It was a small jar. Bilbo swallowed, suddenly understanding as Thorin dipped his fingers in, using the oil to coat himself.

Their eyes met and Bilbo felt his heart leap.

"Spread your legs for me," Thorin ordered, eyes primal.

There was still a bit of fight in him, so Bilbo smiled sweetly.

"Say 'Please'."

With that, the dwarf smirked. He looked positively wicked. Bilbo was barely able to brace himself in time. Thorin devoured him, possessively taking his mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss as he pulled Bilbo's legs up, spreading him. Bilbo threw himself into the kiss, hoping to distract himself from the hardness nudging him open. It was impossible, Bilbo cried out in alarm as Thorin forced his way in, filling and stretching. His eyes now wet, Bilbo bit at the strong shoulders, digging his fingernails into Thorin's arms.

"H-hurts," Bilbo gasped.

Thorin shushed him, warm lips kissing at his moist eyes before taking him into a soft, deep kiss. Thorin stilled his hips, allowing Bilbo time to adjust to the girth now inside of him. After a pause, he gently rocked, hitting a spot deep inside that sent stars before Bilbo's eyes. Thorin swallowed all of Bilbo's cries, hungrily taking his lips again and again. The pace of everything began to blur, becoming frantic as Thorin's speed increased. The sound of skin meeting skin, slick with sweat, pushed them into a heady trance. The pain had numbed away, leaving only the intense pleasure that was building, pushing him closer and closer to release.

Thorin's jagged breathing told him that he was close, and the thought of Thorin releasing deep inside of him pushed Bilbo over the edge. He came with a sob, spilling over their abdomens in thick, slippery spurts. The smell of his own seed filled his nose and he shuddered uncontrollably, at the mercy of Thorin's now frenzied thrusts. He could barely breathe from it all. Thorin suddenly came to a halt, wracked with spasms, and Bilbo clung to him, face buried deep into the crook of his neck. Thorin slowly emptied himself, grunting and cursing softly into Bilbo's curls.

They came floating down, breathing heavily as they sluggishly pulled their limbs apart. The sound of morning filled the void left by their finished coupling. Sparrows chirped merrily outside, the sound of wings fluttering, cutting through the air. Completely spent, Bilbo simply collapsed onto his side, head resting on Thorin's shoulder. He absentmindedly listened to the sounds of birds and life outside the window. A breeze slipped in under the window shutter, tickling his sweaty skin.

"Bilbo," Thorin said quietly, brushing damp curls away from Bilbo's temple. He pressed a soft kiss there, breathing in the scent of him.

Bilbo felt confused. He had to admit, despite all of their travels, Bilbo knew very little about Thorin. When they had first come together, it had been rough, clumsy. He hadn't been surprised because that had seemed to be Thorin's way about things. He was as proud and hard as steel, a man that stood by his comrades and countrymen but still took what he wanted. Bilbo had begun to suspect that he was simply one of the spoils of Thorin's power. He would be lying if he said he was okay with that. Thorin was intoxicating and every time he had reached for Bilbo, it had sparked excitement and arousal. But, despite all of that, Bilbo had enough self-respect to rankle at the notion of simply being used. Enough so that he had considered ending it.

Now, however, he wasn't sure how to proceed. This hadn't just been physical. It was almost as if they had come together this time as lovers. Bilbo blushed scarlet at the thought and abruptly sat, covering his face with a hand.

"Hmm?" Thorin hummed, opening one drowsy eye.

Thorin ran his hand up his back, tracing the dewy skin that covered Bilbo's spine.

"What's going on? I don't understand," Bilbo said quietly, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. He could feel Thorin's seed ooze out of him with each movement. He felt dirty.

"Oh? I thought it was pretty self explanatory," Thorin said, staying where he was, looking up at him with a playful smile.

"Well, then, humor me. Please," Bilbo said, barely able to look at that seductive face. "It was one thing when I was simply your stand in…whore… but this is jus-."

"Bilbo."

Thorin quickly came to attention, his voice losing its playful edge. He pulled Bilbo towards him, cupping his small chin in his hand, forcing his face up and towards his own. Bilbo stubbornly looked off to the side, feeling completely deflated.

"Bilbo, look at me. Now," Thorin commanded, tracing a thumb over Bilbo's bottom lip. "… Look at me."

There was a note of alarm in Thorin's voice and it struck at something in Bilbo. It was vulnerable. Gritting his teeth, giving in, Bilbo turned his eyes up into Thorin's gaze. Bilbo started in surprise. Thorin's expression was one of hurt.

"You are many things, Bilbo Baggins, but you are no whore. What would cause you to think of such a thing?" Thorin demanded, firmly gripping Bilbo's shoulder with his free hand.

Bilbo gaped, thoroughly lost. Was this selective memory? Was Thorin Oakenshield delusional?

"Are you… mad? What is this? What is all of this, then, if not just some sort of carnal release for you? You came to me and simply took what you wanted all of these months. What use am I to you, if not that of a body for you to claim? I don't understand!" Bilbo voice grew in volume, as anger was unleashed in his chest. Angry tears began to slip down his face.

Thorin looked stunned, frozen to the spot.

"I… had no idea… Bilbo, you never turned me away. I thought-," Thorin stammered, alarm clear on his face.

"Turn you away!? You have a full head and half on me- and you are a king! What did you expect me to do?" Bilbo spat, pushing against Thorin's chest.

"Now you wait just a second," Thorin tightened his grasp, pulling Bilbo closer. "All of my intentions, all of this time, was purely to show you my affection for you. If you had no desire for me, you never showed it."

"Stop it! You never bothered to ask if I… even if I did-," Bilbo stopped, suddenly choking up.

"Even if you what?" Thorin asked, looking at him hard, expression unreadable.

Bilbo turned away, pushing at Thorin with all of his strength. Thorin clamped down with iron strong arms, pinning Bilbo into place. Bilbo growled with frustration, trying to wrestle an arm free. He wanted to throw a punch at Thorin; he wanted to smack the look of concern off of his face. He was furious. How could he not understand? How could he not see? Bilbo tried to push off of the bed with his legs, but instead landed himself on his back with Thorin straddling him. Thorin had his wrists, holding him firmly with the flats of his thumbs pressed deeply into Bilbo's open palms.

Their heavy panting filled the space between them. Thorin looked down at him, considering. After a pregnant pause, his grip softened.

"Even if you what?" He asked again.

Bilbo then saw something new, something he'd never before seen in the dwarf… a new kind of sadness. Not the mourning he'd shown for his slain people and stolen home. It was something far more intimate, vulnerable and naked. Something then shifted into place in Bilbo's mind.

Had he misread him?

Had they misread each other?

"Bilbo… please," Thorin whispered, closing his eyes.

Bilbo hesitated, licking his lips. It was tempting to simply say nothing, to let this moment pass and to have them end. It would be simpler, they could just go back to the way things were… Bilbo grimaced at his own stupidity. That was a foolish thought. There was no going back. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't so sure he could live happily with himself if he let things end like this.

Bilbo took a breath. Maybe it was time to honest.

_Calm down._

"Even if… I did want you, had always wanted you from the moment you stepped over my threshold," Bilbo said, as he turned his face away, unable to bring himself to look into Thorin's eyes.

Bilbo started, clamping his eyes shut, as warm lips gently took him. It was a sweet, deep kiss that left Bilbo gasping for breath afterwards. Silently, Thorin settled beside him, pulling them together, cradling Bilbo's body from behind. He held him tightly. After some time spent in silence, Bilbo began to worry.

Would he say anything?

"Thorin?"

He jumped slightly when Thorin finally spoke.

"I am skilled with a sword and bow. I was taught diplomacy with other dwarves and men… and how to be courageous in battle. But, I was never taught… never shown how to do this sort of thing properly. I didn't realize that I was hurting you."

Thorin squeezed him, cradling his head against Bilbo's neck.

"I knew our past times weren't great. I would've preferred- I should've…"

Thorin paused, clearly fighting for the right words.

The fight and anger had left Bilbo. In its place, he allowed hope to flow in.

"I know… I think," Bilbo whispered, leaning into Thorin's embrace.

"I am sorry. Truly."

Surprised, Bilbo turned in his arms. This was, he thought, the first time he had really ever heard the king apologize. They regarded each other, each silently taking the other in. Would this work, or were they careening towards something self-destructive? As if sensing where Bilbo's thoughts were treading, Thorin gently ran a finger down Bilbo's cheek.

"I can't tell you I know what will happen. All I know is that when I am around you, I become hungry… For all I know, we may be heading towards our deaths," Thorin said quietly. "I just wanted some comfor-," he stopped and sighed. "I wanted companionship."

Bilbo pursed his lips. The dwarf had no concept of emotional depth.

"Listen. There is nothing weak in desiring tenderness. I understand that, believe me," Bilbo said, his tone soft.

"I suppose I can be better about this whole thing," Thorin frowned, thinking.

"Hmm, yes. You are incredibly unskilled in that regard," Bilbo said, bringing his hands up to Thorin's chest, tracing his fingers through the rough hair.

Thorin grimaced.

"But, I supposed I can help you with that," Bilbo added, looking sheepish.

With so much unknown ahead of them, Bilbo had to agree with Thorin. They both needed some tenderness and comfort.

**End.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, it would seem that the itch has not been satisfied. At all. These two are just far too much fun to write. I decided that I would work in moments of their relationship peppered throughout the actual story line. Please and enjoy and give me your feedback. Let me know if you spot any spelling or grammar issues. My normal proof-reader is not around and I always seem to miss something despite multiple readings.**

**Best wishes!**

**Tiny Finch**

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**The Humble Heart**

Ch. 2

Bilbo hissed in discomfort as he slowly eased himself down onto the ground. His feet ached, deeply. In fact, everything ached; body and mind. If Bilbo were pressed to put a word to the general mood of the company these past days, it would be 'irritable'… very, very irritable. Mirkwood had made complete fools of them. They were tired, stressed, and perhaps more than a little lost.

Personally, Bilbo put the full blame on Bombur. Fair or not, he was sure he wasn't alone in the sentiment.

"Wake up, you fat oaf," Gloin muttered, glaring over at Bombur's massive form.

Almost as if in response, Bombur snorted in his sleep, the whiskers around his nostrils fluttering in time with each deep breath. Everyone seemed to twitch at the sound, eyes zeroed in on the sleeping dwarf.

_Wake up. For the love of all that is good, wake up!_

He did not stir again and, everyone sagging in disappointment, they went about setting up their camp for the evening. For six miserable days Bombur had been in a deep sleep, cursed by the enchanted river. Bilbo curdled in frustration. They'd all tried so hard to avoid touching the water, but then Bombur went and fell straight in. Nothing could wake him and it was eventually realized, with a collective groan, that he would have to be carried. Bilbo had always like Bombur. He had been source of empathy and camaraderie when everyone else had doubted Bilbo's competence. But, decidedly, he did not begrudge anyone else in the company the opportunity to carry Bombur.

Bilbo looked about the group. A small fire had been kindled because, despite the dangers the forest posed, nobody seemed to have the energy for caution. The dwarves sat dejectedly on their bedrolls, nibbling on hard tack and bits of dried out cheese. While they were not necessarily starving, the food they did have lent nothing to everyone's moral. Bilbo was to the point where he'd rather not eat at all than to swallow another mouthful of the stuff.

Thorin was set apart from the group, eyes closed in thought. He looked spent, despite trying to be strong for the others. Something fluttered in Bilbo's chest and, blushing, he went about setting out his own bedroll. They had barely had the chance to touch since their stay at Beorn's halls. It almost felt cruel, now that they finally seemed to be on the same page. Bilbo wanted to be embraced like the last time, to be completely devoured. Much to his horror, Bilbo felt the beginnings of an erection stir. He pulled his legs together in embarrassment, irked. Annoyance and lust did not combine well, resulting an odd mixture.

"Bilbo and I will take the first watch for tonight. Fili and Kili will take the second," Thorin suddenly spoke, remaining where he was, leaning against a large tree.

Bilbo perked up at the news, excitement sending a thrill down his spine.

"We took part in the watch last night," Fili complained, sprawled out on the ground.

Thorin answered by shooting him a withering glare.

"You are young, and have keener eyes than the rest of us. You both will manage," Balin said, glancing over at the pair. "Mind you, show some respect."

Chagrinned, the two brothers nodded in deference before hunkering down. Silence fell over the camp as everyone settled in for the night. Their journey through Mirkwood had been particularly difficult and, exhausted; the company was quickly pulled into slumber. Bilbo felt tense, sitting stiffly on his mat. The erection had not abated and, with the passing of each silent minute, it seemed to grow. It was becoming painful.

Bilbo jumped at the sound of Thorin's voice.

"Come here," he said quietly, gesturing to the spot next to him.

Awkwardly, he stood, trying to hide his arousal by grabbing his bedding and taking it with him. As he approached, Thorin gave him a warm smile. It almost looked loving. Bilbo's heart leapt. He made to sit next to him, but was stopped by a firm arm.

"No. Here," Thorin said, pulling him onto his lap.

Bilbo felt his face grow unbearably hot. What if the others saw them sitting in such an intimate way?

"Thorin… what if we're seen?" Bilbo whispered, squeaking slightly as Thorin nestled him in between his legs, his small back pressed against Thorin's broad chest.

"Once a dwarf is asleep, it would take a whole goblin horde to awaken him. Besides, if we are seen, I will simply say I was comforting our poor little burglar, who was overwhelmed and homesick," Thorin answered, bending down to nuzzle against Bilbo's neck.

The retort on his lips was cut short as Thorin wrapped his arms around him, squeezing Bilbo tightly. Trembling, he allowed the embrace, heartbeat increasing. He pushed the bedroll down against his groin, desperately willing his arousal to go away. It strained against his hands, demanding attention.

"I have missed this," Thorin said into Bilbo's hair.

His breath tickled.

"Stop. You're making it worse," Bilbo muttered, craning his neck away from Thorin's lips.

"Hmm? Making what worse?" Thorin asked. Bilbo could not tell if he was playing with him or merely unaware of his current state.

"Enough, I'm getting up," Bilbo said, attempting to stand.

"No, no. Stay, I want you close-," Thorin said, pulling Bilbo back down, grabbing at the hobbit's small waist.

Thorin stilled as his hands brushed against the source of Bilbo's irritation. Quick to react, one warm hand gently cupped him, feeling up the size and hardness. Bilbo clapped a hand over his mouth. He was so pent up he could scream at the touch. Thorin at first said nothing, taking the time to slowly run his thumb up and down the length.

"Well… I can not say that I hadn't harbored similar thoughts," Thorin said, his voice a low rumble in Bilbo's ear.

Curse him, the dwarf was purring in satisfaction.

"However… I didn't think simply sitting with me would make you this way," he chuckled.

Thorin gave him a gentle squeeze, rubbing the tip with his thumb. Excitement wetted the fabric.

"T-Thorin. Don't tease me. I don't like it- ah!" Bilbo bit at his knuckles, trying to keep his voice low.

Embarrassed, he knew he would come to orgasm soon if Thorin kept this up. Overcome with want, Bilbo quietly submitted to his large hand as it slipped over the hem of his clothing and down. If someone were to awaken… Bilbo didn't know if he could handle the humiliation.

"Rest assured, I am not teasing you," Thorin said. His other hand found its way up Bilbo's shirt, working at the buttons of his threadbare waistcoat. "I am very… truly pleased."

Waistcoat undone, Thorin palmed at Bilbo's chest through his shirt, feeling the soft skin and thin muscle. Bilbo's entire body jerked in response as Thorin softly pinched a nipple. At this, Bilbo could not stop the cry of surprise that broke free. They froze, casting a glance at the sleeping dwarves around them.

"I may have exaggerated a bit about the goblin horde. You would do best to keep your voice down, lest anyone sees that flustered face of yours," Thorin whispered into his ear, giving it a nibble.

"M-mean," Bilbo gasped, biting down on his bottom lip.

"Hm?" Thorin hummed. He flicked a finger over a taut nipple and noted with satisfaction the way Bilbo's body twitched in response. "Am I mean? You're so hard, I'm surprised you have not already come undone in my hand."

"It's weird," Bilbo said, sounding small.

"Have you never had this done to you?" Thorin asked, genuine surprise in his voice.

"No. I am not a woman, why would you-," Bilbo said, cutting short as Thorin pushed his hand under his shirt, meeting bare skin.

"Whether you are a woman or not, you really don't seem to mind." Thorin ran his hand over Bilbo's abdomen, noticing how thin the hobbit had become. He'd been adorably plump before, but he would be lying if he said the lean musculature Bilbo had acquired did not wet his appetite.

Bilbo writhed about in his grasp, at his mercy. He felt himself getting close. Thorin expertly stroked him, Bilbo's hips now moving in time with each pump. Each time Thorin teased a nipple, he felt a jolt of lighting straight down to his groin. He was breathing heavily, still struggling to keep from making too much noise. He groaned as Thorin ran his tongue down his neck, stopping to suckle at the nape.

It was simply too much.

His orgasm came crashing down and, for a brief moment, he saw nothing but white. With a deep moan, Bilbo emptied himself into Thorin's hand, shuddering with each spurt. He collapsed back against Thorin, mewling softly as the dwarf administered soft kisses along the shell of his ear. Satisfaction warmed his bones and he became putty in Thorin's arms. His was vaguely aware of Thorin wiping his seed drenched hand on the bedroll… wait- Bilbo's bedroll. Disgust ripped him away from the after glow.

"Whoa-Thorin!" Bilbo said, twisting in Thorin's arms to shoot him a glare.

Thorin did not offer him another opportunity to complain, instead taking Bilbo's face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Bilbo grumbled into the kiss, but eventually acquiesced, letting Thorin's tongue work its magic. He sighed into his mouth, lust again coursing through his blood stream. Day's worth of sweat clung to their skin, smelling pungent. The old Bilbo would have been repelled by the thought of living in such a filthy state. Now, after so much had transpired, he did not care. All Bilbo wanted was to wrap his arms around those shoulders and take Thorin deep inside.

Bilbo turned completely in Thorin's embrace, pushing them flush together, grinding. Thorin grasped hungrily at Bilbo's buttocks. Bilbo felt himself hardening again, Thorin sucking at his bottom lip causing him to moan softly. He raked his fingers through Thorin's braids before running his fingers gently along strong jaw line and trembling throat. Bilbo sucked his breath in, surprised as Thorin began to tug at his trousers, exposing his bottom to the cool air. He wanted it, badly, but…

"Hold on," Bilbo said, frantically reaching to still Thorin's hand.

"I want- no, I need you tonight, Bilbo. We've fasted from each other for far too long," Thorin said, groaning slightly in frustration.

He clutched at him possessively, pulling Bilbo up hard against his erection, showing him the evidence of his desire. Making a small sound, deep in his throat, he took Bilbo into another kiss. Thorin had lost all sense of caution.

"I know, oh, I know. But-," Bilbo said, breaking way from the kiss and looking hurriedly over his shoulder. "I can't do it like this… right in front of them. Please."

Thorin glowered at him, obstinate and hungry. Nervously, Bilbo licked his lips. A thought occurred to him. It was something he had wanted to try for a while, to return the favor from their last time. Slowly he leaned in and whispered into his ear, hoping he would take the bait. Thorin practically jumped to attention, eager.

Bilbo couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, feeling tremendously fond of the stubborn dwarf.

"But, behind the tree. Please," Bilbo said, pushing himself up onto his feet.

"As you wish," Thorin responded. He took Bilbo gently by the wrist.

They quietly made their way around a large oak for shelter, careful to remain soft footed. Thorin began undoing his clothing.

"Wait, go fetch my water skin," he said, fingers paused over the cloth ties.

"Huh? Why?" Bilbo asked, confused.

Thorin gave him a wicked grin.

"Just go. You'll thank me for it."

Feeling slightly childish, Bilbo huffed and tiptoed back to the campsite. To his immense relief, everyone was still sound asleep. Having located the water, he returned, casting a suspicious glare at his companion.

"Here," he said, tossing the bag into Thorin's waiting hand.

Thorin released himself from the confines of his trousers. Feeling unsure of himself at the sight of Thorin's cock, Bilbo bit at his thumb nail.

"I'm not sure I follow what you'r- oh."

Bilbo watched, transfixed as Thorin poured the water over himself, cleaning the area. Thorin grimaced slightly, his erection softened from the contact with cold water. Water skin discarded, Thorin settled himself onto the ground and gave Bilbo an expectant look.

"Come now, that was for your benefit. Make it hard again," he said, smirking.

Face flushed red, Bilbo looked down at the ground, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He now felt incredibly bashful. Offering his services in this way now seemed to be a foolish choice. The act suddenly seemed overwhelming.

"I, uh, I've never done this before… So, you know, it might not be any good," Bilbo said, looking up to meet Thorin's eyes.

Bilbo felt butterflies in his stomach. Thorin's gaze was scalding in its intensity.

"Then I shall guide you. Come," Thorin said, beckoning.

Slowly, Bilbo dropped to his knees, crawling over to Thorin's lap. His smell hit Bilbo's nose, the intimacy of it exciting him. He took the erection in his hands, gingerly stroking. It reacted to his touch, the velvety skin throbbing beneath his fingers.

"Take the tip of it into your mouth, slowly. Take care not to use your teeth," Thorin instructed, placing a hand onto the top of Bilbo's head, urging him on.

Bilbo took a deep breath, observing the small bead of liquid now glistening at the top. _It can't be much different from enjoying a piece of stick candy, right?_ Cautiously, he brought the tip to his lips, lapping at the skin. It was pleasantly soft against his tongue and he was immediately rewarded with the low hum Thorin let out. Encouraged, Bilbo parted his lips and took the heated member fully into his mouth. The taste of salt and skin filled his senses. There was a slightly bitter edge to the flavor he couldn't place.

Thorin dug his fingers into Bilbo's hair, gripping tightly.

" Mmhmm, like that. Take as much as you can… use your tongue," Thorin whispered, rolling his hips upwards to meet Bilbo's mouth.

It hit the back of his throat as Bilbo's nose met with the scruff of Thorin's pubic hair. He gagged slightly at the sensation, eyes watering. Feeling panicked, Bilbo looked up, seeking reassurance. Thorin's eyes were shut in concentration, brows pulled together. His lips were parted in a moan. He was lost in pleasure and the sight of it lifted Bilbo up higher than he'd ever gone before. It gave him deep satisfaction to know that he was the cause of that blissful expression.

Bilbo continued, taking care to caress the underside of his cock with his tongue as he bobbed his head up. He paused to kiss at the tip, marveling at how hard he had become. Operating on a hunch, Bilbo reached a hand up and gently took the sack into his palm, giving it a soft press. He smiled internally at Thorin's gasp of surprise. It was not as difficult as he had worried it would be. The motions came naturally to him. He touched and kissed all the places that he knew he himself would enjoy.

He had built up a rhythm, loving the way Thorin swelled against him with each smooth, sucking motion. Despite all of the bravado, Thorin was soft and delicate in his hand. With a light touch, he rolled each sphere in turn between his thumb and forefinger before running his fingers across the rough hair. Thorin sounded as if he was about to say something, but it was quickly muted as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He was shaking beneath Bilbo's touch. Bilbo had never felt so in control before and he reveled in the feeling. He felt big, watching Thorin Oakenshield unravel before him.

Bilbo gave a muffled squeak of surprise as Thorin quickened his thrusts, slipping in and out of the soft, wet contours of Bilbo's mouth in a near frenzied pace. Wet sounds filled the air, drool sliding down his chin and wetting the collar of his shirt.

"A-ah I'm about to- mmn," Thorin said in a shuddering breath, twitching with each stroke of Bilbo's lips.

Thorin seized up, pushing Bilbo down hard around his orgasm. Bilbo flailed about, clutching desperately to Thorin's legs as hot seed filled his mouth, thick and bitter. He gagged against the liquid, fighting the urge to retch. Willing himself, he swallowed it all down with each pulse, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. A hot tear slipped down Bilbo's cheek as he pushed away, coughing and gasping for air.

The intensity of Thorin's finish had caught him completely off guard. He shot him a rueful look, wiping at his mouth.

" You big fool… that was unfair," Bilbo grumbled. He choked slightly at the thick sensation in his throat.

Chuckling softly, Thorin reached for him. He pulled him into his arms, smoothing the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs, cradling his face.

"I am sorry. You were simply too good, I didn't stand a chance," he said. He kissed at the corner of Bilbo's mouth.

"Even so, you didn't have to choke me," Bilbo said, hiding his pleasure at Thorin's praise.

"Oh… 'm sorry… sorry," Thorin mumbled, too busy burying his face into Bilbo's neck. He held him tightly, tenderly.

Bilbo sighed, pleased despite the rough ending. His lower half was still standing at attention. _Seconds, please._ He took Thorin's hand and brought it down between his legs.

"Insatiable, are we?" Thorin laughed soft and low. "I suppose I can indulge you further."

"So confident," Bilbo teased, leaning his face up for a kiss.

A twig snapped next to them, footfall evident.

Time stopped there, horror rooted Bilbo to the spot. He looked up to see Fili standing there, mouth agape. They must've been such a sight with Bilbo straddling Thorin's waist; shirt undone and chest exposed… a faint trail of saliva still glistening on his chin.

"Oh… dear," Bilbo stammered, struck stupid.

Mortified, he buried his face in his hands. He would have scrambled away but quickly remembered that Thorin's groin was still unclothed, exposed. Bilbo stayed where he was, confident that his ears were steaming. He glanced out from between his fingers. Thorin said nothing. He merely looked at his nephew, an eyebrow raised. He made a quick jerk of his head, motioning towards the camp. His eyes were hard and cold.

"It's just me… only woke up to take a piss…" Fili said. His voice was faint, eyes glued on Bilbo, absorbing his state of undress.

Screwing his eyes shut in shame, Bilbo tugged his shirt closed. A horrible, awkward silence stretched between the three of them. Fili stood like a statue, eyes wide.

Finally, Thorin cleared his throat.

"Yes, right. Well, then… I will be going. My apologies," Fili said, tripping over his own feet in his haste to leave the scene.

They sat there for a while, Bilbo hyperventilating into Thorin's shirt. He couldn't believe how nonplussed Thorin seemed. He jumped in shock as Thorin wrapped his arms around him again. Some part of him had been worried that Thorin would reject him if they were ever discovered.

"Hush," he said. "Breath, you silly thing."

"Wha-what? I can't! He _saw_. _SAW!_" Bilbo whispered harshly, angrily squirming in Thorin's arms.

Thorin silenced him with a soft, warm kiss.

"I will speak with him. I am his uncle and king. He knows that I have a right to his silence," Thorin said.

"His silence?"

"Yes. Even if the others were to eventually discover us, no one will dare say a word," Thorin was calm and confident.

Bilbo was not convinced. The thought of the others catching them in a similarly compromising situation made him feel faint. Thorin gave him a reassuring smile.

"My choice of a bedmate is none of their concern," he said, cupping Bilbo's chin.

"Bedmate, huh?" Bilbo said, still cross.

Thorin was quiet for a moment, weighing Bilbo with his eyes.

"Lover, then."

Bilbo blinked, trying to process the word that had just left Thorin's lips.

"What did you just say?" Bilbo felt his pulse quicken.

"Lover."

For a moment, Bilbo didn't know what to say. He simply stared at him. Inside his heart was soaring. He took a shaking breath.

"Say it again… Please," he finally managed.

Thorin smiled softly, pulling Bilbo forward. Forehead pressed to forehead, he nuzzled their noses together.

"Lover."

"… Again."

"Alright… Lover."

Bilbo smiled a big, toothy grin. Despite the gloom of nighttime, he felt as though the sun was shining brilliantly.

**End.**


	3. Chapter 3

Hello all,

First and foremost, a big THANK YOU is owed to those who reviewed. It's always good to get some feed back. I struggled with this chapter as it involved a lot of dialogue and character development early on in the timeline. I was unsure of how to go about writing it properly. I certainly hope you all enjoy it.

\- Tiny Finch

* * *

**The Humble Heart**

Ch. 3

He traced the polished oak, allowing the smoothly varnished surface to glide over the pads of his fingertips. It was a familiar, comforting habit that he'd always had. This hand carved canopy bed had been passed down to him by his parents and, especially since their passing; Bilbo had taken to fondly admiring the woodwork. The flickering light from the fireplace gave the wood a warm glow, the shades of brown and grain of the wood illuminated, finer than gold. In fact, this was a ritual he performed with most of his parent's belongings. Whenever he felt stressed or mournful, he would quietly shuffle about Bag End, touching items here and there.

His mother's South Farthing pottery… his father's expertly crafted leather bound journals. They all held memories.

He stiffened as a low cough snapped him out of his thoughts. A dwarf walked by the door, and Bilbo rankled at the sound of heavy boots against the floorboards. Muddy, filthy boots… he did not care to wonder as to what those incorrigible dwarves had tracked into his house. The invasion of his home and privacy had left Bilbo feeling bitter. The sudden and overwhelming invitation to join Gandalf and the dwarves had left him utterly overwhelmed. Vulnerable.

Bilbo pinched at the bridge of his nose, his other hand fisting the soft fabric of the duvet in frustration. He couldn't decide what he felt more anger at: Gandalf and his companions… or at the nagging sense of disappointment he felt within himself… at himself. Gandalf's aged face appeared before him again. Never before had Bilbo felt so inadequate than he did before those aged eyes. Where _was_ that young Took? Before he had become a Baggins of Bag End, he used to yearn for a chance at adventure beyond the Shire. Bilbo had spent countless summer nights staring up at the night sky, listening to the quiet flow of the Brandywine River, and feeling as though he were about to burst out of his very skin, waiting.

He bit at his lip, brow furrowed. Had it been the sudden responsibility of growing older, becoming the head of his family estate? Much to his, and everyone else's surprise, he had proven himself to be quite respectable. Managing things as a Baggins had come naturally and all of the challenges it had provided filled his plate. Overtime, the feel of fine cloth and the satisfaction of a full larder became all he could possibly wish for. Still, Bilbo wasn't sure when he had become so complacent. Comfortable, quiet years had made him lethargic and, yes, somewhat fat. Bilbo could not ignore the nagging fact that his younger self would not even recognize the hobbit now reflected in the mirror.

Suddenly restless, exhaustion forgotten, Bilbo rose from the bed and hastily grappled with his jacket. The reassuring feel of his well-worn pipe against his fingers brought a sigh to his lips. A pipe full of Old Toby is what he sorely needed right now. He stealthily crept down the hall, his pipe held between pursed lips. He'd just step out the back, fresh air and quality tobacco would do wonders to sort this all out in his head.

The deep hum of a voice smooth and melodious caused him to still. It reverberated deep into his chest. Bilbo's heart quickened as something fluttered deep inside. It felt like a drop breaking and rippling across water's smooth surface. It called to him and as more voices joined the first into a low chorus, Bilbo felt his knees give slightly. The atmosphere became heavy and somber. The very air seemed to vibrate. His intent for Old Toby now lost, Bilbo changed course, slowly making his way to the main parlor.

Hesitant, he stole a peek around the corner, forgotten pipe hanging loosely from his lips. Bilbo spied their leader leaning against the mantel of the fireplace. _Thorin._ Transfixed, he watched as he sang, his eyes staring far off, out of Hobbiton and way off to another time and place.

"_Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away ere break of day  
To seek the pale enchanted gold._

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,  
While hammers fell like ringing bells  
In places deep, where dark things sleep,  
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord  
There many a gleaming golden hoard  
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught  
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung  
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung  
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire  
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves  
And harps of gold; where no man delves  
There lay they long, and many a song  
Was sung unheard by men or elves."

Bilbo swallowed, watching as the light from the fireplace danced across the room. As the song rose in intensity, he felt as though he were shrinking, swallowed by a world far vaster than he could ever have imagined.

"_The pines were roaring on the height,  
The winds were moaning in the night.  
The fire was red, it flaming spread;  
The trees like torches blazed with light._

The bells were ringing in the dale  
And men they looked up with faces pale;  
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire  
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;  
The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom.  
They fled their hall to dying fall  
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim  
To dungeons deep and caverns dim  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To win our harps and gold from him!"

As they neared the end, Thorin met his eyes, noticing his small audience for the first time. Bilbo felt heat flush through his entire body, starting from deep within and spreading out, pricking the tips of his fingers and ears. It was not the first time their eyes had met that evening but this felt different. It was intimate and private, away from the notice of the others. For a moment, strung out and taut, he held his gaze, lost completely in those dark eyes.

Then, destroying the effect soundly, Thorin's lips twitched into a smirk.

Bilbo balked, the spell broken. Graceless, he scrambled to catch his pipe as it slipped from his lips and fell past fumbling fingers. It hit the ground with a tremendous clatter for such a small instrument, shattering the quiet revere that had filled the space in the song's aftermath. All eyes zeroed in on Bilbo as he dove after the pipe, snapping it up into his sweaty palms. It was a horrible moment. Embarrassment lit up his face red as he huffed and straightened his waistcoat, unable to meet anyone's eye. He had fainted earlier in the evening, but somehow this was infinitely worse. Perhaps it was a cumulative effect.

No one said a word.

Painful.

"Well… um… Good night, then. I trust you all will be gone come morning," Bilbo finally managed, sticking his nose into the air as he spun on his heels and marched from the room.

He felt like such an ass.

Bilbo felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision slightly as painful emotion flooded his senses. Furious, he went to the wine cellar and found a bottle that had yet to be opened by the dwarves. They had torn through his pantries like a firestorm and it was a small miracle that a few bottles had managed to escape their insatiable appetites. The wine had been laid down by his father and, to be honest, it would have benefited enormously from being left for another ten years or so to age. However, at this point Bilbo was beyond caring. He burst out into the night air, allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

By the time he found a perch hidden behind the double chimney that mounted Bag End, Bilbo realized that he was crying. He dropped the bottle onto the soft grass and slumped to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest. He felt like such a silly little fool. Curse all of them… He was Bilbo Baggins, not some young, weepy fauntling. Bilbo scrubbed at his eyes angrily and took in several long, measured breaths. He made every effort to bring himself down off of the high crests of heavy emotion that wracked through his entire body. Come tomorrow this whole horrible ordeal would be over and he would be able to continue on with his life.

"You will forget this," he whispered to himself, prying the cork from the bottle.

Bilbo self-medicated for a while, drinking his wine deeply and packing his pipe full, blowing smoke ring after smoke ring out into the night sky. He watched as they slowly dissipated into the dark. After some time had slipped away, he saw how the moon hung high up in the sky, full and bright. He was certain that it must be indecently late. Noticing that the bottle was almost empty, he lay back on the ground and cushioned his head with his arms. He would feel soundly foolish come morning, but considering his track record for the evening, it hardly seemed to matter.

His awareness started to lag as exhaustion again made itself known and began to take him. Heavy, it blanketed him and lulled him down into soft slumber. _No, no. This will not do. _Jerking up, Bilbo rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was not so intoxicated that the idea of the neighbors finding him asleep outside come morning did not send him to his feet. Oh, how they would talk. Smiling ruefully, he stretched and gingerly made his way down to the path.

He stopped when he spotted a figure ahead, leaning against the back door of his home. The dwarf was smoking and, with each long and steady pull, the embers illuminated Thorin's face.

He was still singing, humming the same sad, sad song from earlier. Bilbo felt conflicted. He'd been horribly rude… but then again so had his uninvited guests. He kicked softly at the ground. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was because deep down Bilbo did not like to be angry. Cause unknown, almost as if controlled by someone bold and daring, Bilbo walked down the path. He could feel the dwarf's gaze as he neared. They both remained silent as Bilbo paused by his side. Their eyes met, resulting in a quick jolt to his gut, thrilling him. The path had a small stonewall that ran alongside, leading all the way up to his back door. It was here that Bilbo decided to settle himself, once again pulling out his pipe.

He really was smoking way too much. Well then, he'd just add it to his tab of mistakes tonight.

Even though Bilbo pretended to be taking in the night sky, he spied Thorin giving him a long, measured look. He seemed to be amused. Bilbo ignored him and soon they settled into an almost comfortable silence, crickets filling the night air.

"You really are an odd thing, Master Grocer."

Bilbo blinked in surprise.

"Odd? What do you mean odd? And, also, I am most certainly _not_ a grocer," he responded, turning to shoot a cross look at the dwarf.

"Hmm… well, you certainly do meet the criteria I had in mind for a grocer. Baggins, was it? What does a Baggins do then? Your pantry was certainly well stocked to the point that I would confuse you for one," he said. As he spoke, Thorin tapped the bowl of his pipe against the door frame, the ashes leaving a mark on the fresh green paint.

Bilbo tsked in annoyance.

_Well stocked? Ha! _

"My once full- and now utterly depleted, I might add- pantries do not denote my profession here. Those stores are- now I should say _were-_ the result of hard, respectable work. You and your companions have nearly drained me," Bilbo said. Thorin raised his eyebrows, as if to shrug off the complaint. Irked, he continued, "I do not know why you and Gandalf insist on turning your nose up at all of the efforts I have built up here. I am carrying on the tradition of my parents-."

All the pieces then clicked into place in his mind and Bilbo stopped short, considering the dwarf. He glowered, feeling a tad chagrined.

"You are toying with me, aren't you?" he finally said.

Thorin suddenly broke into a laugh. The sheer volume of it sent Bilbo to his feet in surprise.

"You amuse me, Master Grocer! Laughter is hard to find along the roads that I have traveled. So, yes, when I find an opportunity to laugh I will take it. It bothers me little if it is at your expense. Although, perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to take the bait."

Bilbo pressed his mouth into a tight line, trying to sort out his opinion of this 'king'. Though, to be honest, it was not like Bilbo had an extensive wealth of experience to go off of to form said opinion. Thorin was his first.

"And aye, I do find you to be odd. You are the first hobbit I have ever had the chance to speak with and so far the impression that you, and your quaint little town, have left me with is one of… well, if you feel you do not measure up to the task, I do not blame you."

Tobacco finished, Thorin made to leave. Bilbo found himself stumbling to get in a final word.

"M- Measure up to the task? Funny! This is no mere task… if it involves a dragon then it is definitely the making of a full-blown quest! _And_, as I told Gandalf, I have no need for adventures, quests, or loud and boorish dwarves here," Bilbo huffed.

"Pushing semantics? Isn't that normally the hallmark of someone who has lost an argument?" Thorin turned back, fingers still hovering over the doorknob. All sense of humor was now gone.

Bilbo opened and closed his mouth. He'd been caught.

"I am not sure what quarrel you have with me. You have already made it quite clear that you have no intention, what so ever, on joining us. I, for one, was never entirely satisfied with the idea to begin with. You were brought to my attention solely on the wizard's recommendation and, now that I have met you, Gandalf's confidence in his 'burglar' has been seriously misplaced," Thorin said. The playful smirk from earlier had left and, as he spoke, Thorin seemed to age before Bilbo's very eyes. For the briefest second, empathy flared up in Bilbo's chest.

Thorin opened the door and took a step in over the threshold. Bilbo felt cowed. Thorin's eyes were hard and impenetrable. They were right, weren't they? Bilbo was far too soft and small to handle a challenge of this caliber. What had Gandalf been thinking? After all, it had been many years and Bilbo was no longer young and eager. He had changed far too much and there was no calling that youth back. But then, quite unexpectedly, instead of moving on from being cowed to complete defeat, Bilbo got angry.

Positively livid, in fact.

Later, Bilbo would not be able to recall if it was rage at the insults and demeaning attitude Thorin showed him, or if it was just simply the tipping point of an incredibly trying evening. Deep down, though, it was most likely directed at himself. Anger over how fat he had become. Anger at the expectations society had thrust upon him. Anger at all of the obligations and social etiquette he was forced to follow all for the sake of the other hobbits that surrounded him. He'd forgotten what he truly wanted. It had been drowned out years ago. But, being rather obstinate for a hobbit, Bilbo was nowhere near ready to admit it. So, instead of taking this revelation introspectively, he took all of the vitriol and spun it around, taking aim at the dwarf's broad back.

He threw his pipe.

_Right at him_.

Just like a petulant fauntling.

They both froze as it bounced off of Thorin's right shoulder and then landed on the dirt path with a dull thud.

"Oh…" Bilbo muttered weakly. The red wine of his anger wore off and he was left standing sober.

Now, Bilbo was not an expert on dwarves, or on kings. But, gathering from what he did know, and could then logically surmise, attacking a dwarf king- an exiled dwarf king- was incredibly and unfathomably idiotic. Bilbo could now feel nervous sweats coming on. Like a deer trapped before it's hunter, Bilbo could only stand, utterly petrified, and watch as Thorin slowly turned back to face him.

It was almost comical, Thorin's expression. It started off as surprise; his thick brows arched high over his eyes. Then they came down and his expression shifted into one of incredulous disbelief. _The sheer unmitigated gall, _Bilbo read that as clear as day when Thorin's jaw began to clench. Finally, the moment he knew would come, outrage registered across Thorin's face. His eyes widened, entering battle mode. In reality, all of these stages must have followed one another rather quickly, as Thorin was swift to react. But for Bilbo, all of the emotions played out in slow motion just before his life began to flash before his eyes.

Bilbo started to shuffle back, flight mode taking over his brain.

"Wa-wait! Stop!" Bilbo tried to cry out.

The air was nearly knocked from his lungs as Thorin crossed the space between them and roughly yanked him up by his collar. With a growl, he slammed Bilbo against the mound of his hobbit hole, pinning him.

"You would dare attack me, hobbit?" Thorin said, his voice as low and ominous. He practically hissed the words out from behind clenched teeth.

"No!" Bilbo felt his voice breaking.

"_No?_" Thorin sneered. "Aren't you just full of contradictions, then? You will show me the respect a king deserves."

Bilbo gasped as Thorin tightened his grip, grinding his body down into the soft earth. Terrified, Bilbo struggled in his grasp, kicking out violently with his feet. His knee connected with something soft and, with a surprised grunt, Thorin's hold on him loosened. Twisting with all of his strength, Bilbo slipped down and away. Upon realizing that he'd been able to break free, the anger and spunk came flowing back. It filled his chest, and Bilbo suddenly felt strong. Before Thorin could grab him again, Bilbo curled his fist and threw everything he had into an uppercut directed squarely at Thorin's chin.

Miraculously, it connected. Thorin stumbled back, whip lashed. Bilbo cursed, cradling his hand to his chest. He had never hit anyone before in his life and the fact that it would actually hurt to do so surprised him.

_Curse it all!_

Thorin took another step back, flexing his jaw back and forth, testing for injury. He considered Bilbo again, looking him up and down. A switch had been flicked and the brawl was now on. The burly dwarf pushed his sleeves further up his arms and he spat blood out onto the ground. He crouched, met Bilbo's eyes with intensity. Outstretching his arms, Thorin beckoned him closer.

"I see, I see. Come at me, then. Show me what you have," he taunted.

Thorin grinned and Bilbo could not sort out what it meant. Was it was of approval or anger? Was the fool mad? Bilbo snorted in derision. All dwarves were insane. Obviously. Trying to shake the pain out of his tender hand, Bilbo assumed what he felt was as close to a fighting stance as he could get. He'd seen the occasional grappling match out behind the pub. They were always friendly competitions where the highest stakes were a pint or two of ale. Something all the young hobbit men dabbled in- except Bilbo. Getting into a brawl would never do.

Very poor taste, indeed.

Grimacing, Bilbo threw himself forward, throwing punch after punch. Each blow missed its mark by a wide margin. Thorin bobbed and weaved, a practiced hand at combat. Bilbo was a complete novice and each time his fist hit the air, he realized how predictable his moves must be. Embarrassment adding fuel to his bite, Bilbo lunged. Thorin side stepped him and stuck his foot out, tripping Bilbo. The bitter taste of earth met his tongue as he face planted. His palms scraped across gravel, skinned. Bilbo could almost swear he heard a deep chuckle as Thorin walked up behind.

_Rage. Rage. Rage. Rage_.

Spinning and seeing red, on all fours like an animal, Bilbo ran at him with a roar. He didn't expect to make contact, but somehow he did. Thorin let out a cry of shock as Bilbo hit him hard, sending them both to the ground. What came next was a mad scramble of tangled limbs as they wrestled for dominance. But, being only half of Thorin's weight, Bilbo stood little chance. He hissed in anger as Thorin flipped him onto his back, pulling his hands up above his head and shackled them there within his iron grasp. Bilbo writhed helplessly.

"Let me go! You- you big oaf! Fool! Bastard!" Bilbo shouted, flinging his head back and forth with each insult.

Thorin simply held him, allowing Bilbo to waste all of his energy. Eventually, the strength left Bilbo's limbs and he collapsed back against the ground, panting.

"You surprise me, Master Grocer," Thorin said, laughing through his own labored breathing.

"Go rut with a tree shagger!" Bilbo spat, turning his head away from Thorin's triumphant smirk.

_Oh, dear_. Where had he picked that one up? His mother would've been scandalized. In fact, she probably rolled over in her grave at that moment.

"A dwarf and an elf? I would never debase myself by laying with such scum," Thorin scoffed.

Bilbo sulked, still refusing to meet Thorin's eyes. They were both breathing heavily, gasping in the cool night air. This had been Bilbo's first fight and he'd been soundly defeated. He wasn't surprised. Typical. Bilbo heaved in a large sigh, filling his lungs. He twitched slightly at the sensation of his stomach rising against the hard muscle of Thorin's chest.

"There is more to you than meets the eye, I will acknowledge that," Thorin continued, reaching down with one hand to take Bilbo's chin, forcing his head up to meet his gaze.

They locked eyes and Bilbo felt a splash of warmth down into his groin. Confused by the sensation, Bilbo squirmed. It did him no favors. If anything, it made him acutely aware of their position. Thorin's weight was bearing down, his abdomen pressing between his legs, spreading him. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that this must be what it felt like to be 'pushed down'. Bilbo swallowed nervously, his throat raw from shouting. The dwarf's heat made everything feel unbearably hot. His breath tickled Bilbo's skin with each long exhale, washing over his face and neck. It all felt horrifying intimate, as if he was breathing in the very air that left Thorin's lips.

"Get off," Bilbo said, his voice coming out faint.

"Only if I have your word that you will not be throwing anymore punches," Thorin replied.

Bilbo licked at his lips, the taste of iron biting at his tongue. He grimaced. Thorin was close- very close. So much so that Bilbo could've counted every eyelash had he wished to. He took in the contours of Thorin's face, observing the hard line of his cheekbones. At this distance, Bilbo saw that his eyes were in fact a layered and warm grey, not the enigmatic dark he'd assumed before. He felt his skin burning, a blush making its way across his cheeks and up to his ears. Shocked, Bilbo realized that this flush had nothing to do with their fight. He arched his back, trying to urge Thorin off of him.

Something tangible had shifted across Thorin's expression. Bilbo could hardly believe it, but he knew that look. Of course, it had been years since he had last been on its receiving end. As to how they had arrived here, Bilbo was at a loss. They had just been quarreling.

"Get off. Please," Bilbo said, but found that it came out as a mere whisper.

Thorin did not respond. He instead seemed focused on Bilbo's face. His hand loosened its hold on his chin, the fingers softly tracing down the pale skin of his throat. There was a hunger in those eyes, and Bilbo felt his pulse pick up speed. This whole situation was knotting his stomach, filling his body with a kind of delicious tension that he had not experienced in such a long time.

"Hey-," Bilbo said, breath escaping his lips with a shudder.

"Shh," Thorin murmured.

Thorin was leaning down, coming in so close that their lips grazed, warm and dry skin meeting in a chaste gesture. Soft. Bilbo felt like he would shoot out of his skin. He could taste Thorin's breath on his tongue, his smell overwhelming all senses. Bilbo detected the slightest shiver run through Thorin's body. He seemed to descend again, seeking more.

The rowdy laughter of late night drunkards shattered the mood, sending them both crashing back down into reality. The pubs in Hobbiton had closed and the few stragglers were only just now meandering their way home. Clumsy footfall grew louder as the hobbits made their way past, missing the dwarf hunched over in the dark, hidden. They rounded a bend in the road and, as the ruckus faded, Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief. Thorin quickly stood, brushing the dirt from his tunic. Bilbo worried his lips, unsure. He sat, wincing slightly.

"Good night, Master Baggins," Thorin said with a cough, clearing his throat.

"Good nigh…" Bilbo trailed off, watching as Thorin spun and retreated. The door closed with a resounding thud. Bilbo felt it reverberate through his body.

Sleep did not come easily to Bilbo that night. After some time spent sitting in the dirt, he finally crawled to his feet and quietly made his way inside. The dwarves were all sound asleep, their snores filling the air. He lay back in his bed and watched, in a trance, as the morning light slowly, gradually, made its way into the room. He blinked and then realized, with a start, that he had finally fallen asleep. He did not know how many hours had been lost. The house was quiet. They were gone, leaving only his unsigned contract and a note behind. It had only been one evening, but it felt like ages had passed. At some point, a decision had been reached, knocked loose from the mire deep within his heart.

Bilbo gripped the parchment of the contract in his hand, creasing it.

It was time to go.

* * *

With trembling hands, Bilbo pulled at the thick spider's web clinging to Thorin's hair and armor. Bilbo felt as though he were about to retch. He had almost lost him again. _Again._ Overcome with emotion, the adrenaline subsided and Bilbo clung to the fabric of Thorin's coat, allowing a relieved sob to break out from his chest. Thorin turned them away from the others, shielding the embrace. No one would have noticed, they were all too busy pulling the mess of web and spider guts from their limbs and weapons. Bifur fussed over the bite on Bombur's round, fat nose.

"Thorin. I-," Bilbo started. Thorin raised his hand up; looking out into the Mirkwood, alert.

"More spiders will come. Prepare yourselves!" Thorin shouted out to the others, drawing Orcrist from its sheath.

"Bilbo," Thorin said, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him close. "You will hide yourself."

"What? No! Thorin, I have proven that I can fight many times over!" Bilbo protested.

"It is not the spiders that I-," Thorin began but cut off, pushing Bilbo to the ground, hard, as an arrow planted itself at their feet.

"Hide! _Now!"_ Thorin shouted and before Bilbo could react, they were overridden by chaos.

The battle was fierce, brutal, and blindingly fast. Wood elves made quick work of the spiders, the lethal warriors leapt from branch to branch. At first, Bilbo had been relieved. Reinforcements! However, it became quickly apparent that there was no love lost when it came to the Wood Elves. Thorin and his company were quickly subdued, outnumbered, exhausted, and half starved to death from their journey through the wood. For once, Bilbo headed Thorin's request and slipped the ring onto his finger. Unseen, Bilbo followed at a distance as the elves led his friends away. He held Sting tightly, knuckles white.

He had no plan, but he would do everything and anything that he could to get Thorin back.

* * *

So... no smut in this chapter. Sorry! But I do plan to make up for it next time. Thorin's POV :3


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